Crushed Flowers

And these are my flaws
My vices.
Impatience, a tongue
sharp as a guillotine.
Caffeine. Chocolate.
Sarcasm on every occasion.
And unquenchable desire
to be loved.
A heart that is an
exhibitionist who
weeps upon
my sleeve
A fear of monochrome
colors, thunder,
the undone,
petty gossip
and letting go.
A hunger to be kissed
often and with fervor.
An awkward shyness
around new people.
A fascination with
the lure of a snowbound
life.
Not being Christian
enough to turn the
other cheek or Zen
enough to just be still.
The knowledge that my
life is unimportant
in a world with a noose
around its neck but
writing about it
anyway.
I often prefer the company
of books and my cat to
other human beings.
I live nside a cluttered
mind in a pristine house.
And not listening closely
to my Granny and her
treasury of wise words
Most which I have
forgotten, but
I do recall her saying
you must learn
to take what will
be with grace,
that our flaws
bind us
to humanity,
and to never forget
even broken crushed
flowers are beautiful
More fragrant for
their fall.
The infallible blossom
of dtrength and the will
to go

Hey Tosha, how are ya?
Great piece. Sooooo very current, the reality of a post-modern world with many going through existential crisis.
Your grandmother had some great words of wisdom.
Have a great day.
🙂 ❤

In time I will write a letter to all women because I am inspired by your poetic words and if you use google some of the time for assistance I just don’t care….I think the poem will penetrate the hearts of them and I will do so by using words of truth, edification and beauty…

Poet and word nerd. . Author of Confessions of a Reformed Southern Belle: A Poet's Collection of Love, Loss, and Renewal, and Self Help to Self Harm: The Dubious Guide to Life, Love, and Relationships. Podcast host at La Literati. Social Justice Advocate- Bridge to Freedom. Academia addict. Sempiternal dreamer. Habitual ponderer. Lover of history, free thinkers, and music with lots of brass.